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Amusements (Let's talk about sex!)

Issue Date: Tuesday, Apr. 15, 2003


My mother, father and I driving to Destin, FL. My father is driving, my mother is sitting up front and I am in the back. I am smooshed up between the two front seats like I am 12 (was 29 at the time) so I don’t miss any witty banter between my folks. We are not even 1/16th of the way and the traffic slows to a crawl. Signs are posted like every 3 feet saying that the right lane was going to end, merge left. My mother stops chatting, looks around her and in her precious, high-pitched, southern voice asks my father, “Well, why do you think all these people are slowing down?” My father, one to never waste words points energetically at one of the huge, orange and black “Lane Ending – Merge Left (FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!)” signs on my mother’s side of the highway. Like, “Lookit that. Not like we’ve passed 18 Frillon of them in the past 5 minutes.” Eh heh. No really, it was funny. Ok, only to me.

Mister impersonating John Anderson of “Swingin” fame. For those of you who do not know who this man is (John Anderson, not Mister), he does those pitiful, mourn-like country songs heard in dimly lit pool halls in places like… oh, I don’t know… Cut `N Shoot, Texas. Yes, that is really a town in Texas. No, I am not going to link to it. (Ok, so I did link to it. What can I say? I am a whore for this HTML stuff.) I wanna tell you about Mister’s impersonation. I first heard this talent one afternoon while we were getting ready to go to a movie. The radio in his kitchen was playing and “Straight Tequila Night” by John Anderson came on. This is an unabashedly corny song people. John Anderson’s voice, if anything, is unique. Mister took this new information and fashioned everything from Bon Jovi to Perry Como in a John Anderson singsong. I laughed so hard I almost pee’d. He has now added Metallica to his repartee and is darn good at it!

Harvey Birdman Attorney at Law. Pure Adult Cartoon Goodness. I shit you not. If you are anywhere near a TV on Sunday nights at 10:15pm (CST), please; for Pete’s sake; check this out. It’s fifteen minutes of sarcasm and poorly veiled innuendo. Sexual innuendo from a cartoon. And a previous member of the (c.1967) Birdman and the Galaxy Trio no less. There is this little green dude, I can’t recall his name but he is so paranoid. He keeps yelling, “Are you looking at me? Can’t you see I can feel your eyes!” Ok, again… this may be just me, but I find this hilarious.

Timeline, 1997, place… a hospice in Atlanta, GA. My maternal grandmother “Butter” turns to my mother and asks, “What is it that lesbians do?”

This last one was sort of bitter sweet. Butter died of cancer and was such a trooper. She was very strong in faith and was ready to go “to the big house” long before her body shut down.

Retarded thought that won’t leave my head. “I paid off my Target card, so now I can use it again.” Note to Mister: take it away from me. But not until after Easter, I want a new purse and some sunglasses. Hee!

I am 30 years old but still receive an Easter basket from my Mommy! Can I tell ya’ll how much this rocks? I know I said I never wanted to grow up. Having to take care of bills and make sure the oil is changed is not a big deal to me. I meant I just want to continue to receive Easter baskets. [scuffs her toe on the carpet like a bashful three year old, complete with pouty lip and eyelash batting] See? Aren’t I cute enough to receive an Easter basket? Let’s discuss Santa closer to Christmas, deal?

Speaking of mythological creatures (Note to reader: if you still believe in Santa, stop reading here and ask your parents to turn “child lock” on their web access. We talk about sex and stuff here! Sheesh! Well, I really don’t talk much about sex. But I should. Eh heh.) I am curious to see “Darkness Falls” because I like creepy stuff. I heard it was about a rabid tooth fairy or some such tomfoolery. Sounds like a good premise. Great babysitting material. Ha! Kidding.

Have I told you guys that I am afraid of clowns?

Wait a second.

Let's talk about sex, baby
Let's talk about you and me
Let's talk about all the good things
And the bad things that may be
Let's talk about sex

Ok, so we talked about sex for a minute.

I didn’t wanna talk about creepy clowns anyway.

Word to your mother.


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To understand this dear reward (above) at all, you must hie thee on and read gatsby’s grape ape entry and my comments.

And because of said comments he sent me my very own dream turtle in an email titled wee gift with these words attached, “my purple monkey is booked solid so i ordered you a tangerine turtle. hope he proves helpful.”

The Graphic Below Courtesy of Papernapkin.

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